A-Maize-ing Grace
by ilovebotdf111
Summary: A psychological horror story that will challenge how you think and leave your urethra begging for more.


A-Maize-ing Grace

Acclaim for "A-Maize-ing Grace":

"Superb… A shining example how American Literature is shit as always." – USA ToGay

"I suppose this can be looked at as satire, but it still begs the question: Why?"- CBS

"It's a piece of shit, but it's MY shit." – IGN

"It's no _Divine Comedy_, that's for damn sure."- New York Times

"It killed me. It really did."- Holden Caufield

"The author's use of simple sentences really made me think of how simple the author was himself."- Fox News

"When I was reading this, I heard moaning coming from my daughter's bedroom. I walked in to see what was wrong, I found that she and my wife were having an incestuous relationship. To this day I still blame this story for destroying my family." – The Washington Post

Chapter One: Blood on the Corn

When I woke up that morning I didn't realize how drastically my life would change. I had a dream the night before that my wife would leave me for a better man. She did, and I received a postcard from her and Raimin Djawadi. I can't say I blame her, I hear that Raimin Djawadi is a monster in the bedroom. The postcard read, "Dear John: Ur pathetic. I hope when you go outside to git sum corn that blud cums out. Fuk u. Love Jessica". It was a beautiful gesture.

I went outside to go get some corn, but something caught my eye. There was blood on the corn.

THEN ALL OF A SUDDEN AN ORCHESTRATED VERSION OF ELTON JOHN'S "Saturday Night's All Right for Fighting" IN ORDER TO BUILD SUSPENSE.

Chapter Two: Elton John is Overrated

It was at this moment with Elton John blaring in the background when a deep rage started to boil inside me. I pulled out a gun and put it too my head. "I'm gonna fuckin do it" I said. I didn't. The rage quickly went away and I put my gun back in my pocket.

Chapter Three: T0m Cruise our Lord and Savior

My wife came back later that day, smelling like sweat and shame. "Why isn't your dick as big as other people's?" she bitched. I looked at her and shrugged, creating an instance of foreshadowing where I picked up a knife and threw it at the wall, barely missing her jugular. I don't think she noticed.

I asked her if she was hungry and she responded that she wasn't so I made a large feast to spite her. She ate it all. I lost.

Chapter Four: I Wonder if Cialis Really Works

After attempting suicide I went downstairs to see if my wife wanted to talk about our crumbling relationship. She seemed touched that I actually showed interest in her feelings, and she apologized deeply about how she was a terrible wife and from now on she'd be faithful. She was ashamed of her prior behavior and deeply wanted our relationship to be mended. A tear fell from her eye. I wiped it away and proceeded to kiss her passionately. Little did she know that my lips were coated with the ashes of her grandmother, lol! I then proceeded to beat her mercilessly. I stopped for about an hour and watched Turbo on TV. After the movie was over I continued my work.

I was getting pretty tired so I called up a few of my old college buddies to see if they wanted to help. "What the hell man, you need help!" one of them said in disgust. He showed up an hour later, eager to help.

The beating went on for 9 hours. When we were finished, my wife was no longer moving. I figured she was just sleeping, so I put her in bed and gave her a kiss. One of her eyes was missing. I realized then how beautiful she was, and how lucky I was to have her.

Chapter Five: Cialis you Lying Sack of Shit!

I went back downstairs and grabbed a brewskie for my college friend. He told me that he didn't drink because it was a bad habit. I shrugged and threw the bottle down on his head, fracturing his skull. His body dropped like a bag of dildos crashing onto the floor at an adult store, in plain view of the children passing by outside with their family. The store owner would try to apologize, but he knew he just ruined a kid's life, he knew he just broke a family. Maybe that porno-store owner will go on to have an unfaithful wife and a terrible life.

I shook off this thought and stepped into my car, driving to the local strip club.

Chapter Six: Which Witch is which?

When I came back from the strip club it was 9 30 at night. I sat in my car listening to my Cher mix tape. It was dark, and I turned my head to look at the corn. I stepped out of my car and walked into the corn. I stripped naked and compared the size of my penis to an ear of corn. It was below average. A tear fell from my eye, and I looked up to the sky and screamed "I don't understand my trigonometry homework!" I ran back inside and ran into the bedroom.

I saw that my wife was hanging from the ceiling fan with blood dripping onto the bed. I shrugged and walked outside. I shot a Blue Rhino gas tank, destroying my house, and I ran naked into the field of corn. I could hear the cop sirens in the distance, foreshadowing what will happen in the next chapter.

Chapter 7: Coen Brothers Ain't Got Shit on This Ending

The chains around my ankles felt like they were getting tighter, and my orange jumpsuit was stiff on my crotch region. God it itches! Have you ever had that feeling where, like, you're doing your homework and then for some reason your pants get really tight around your crotch so you start itching it and then it just gets progressively more itchy so then you go into the bathroom and shave all of your pubes off and it reveals massive red bumps and so you go to the doctor and your doctor is just like "Well I better poke those bumps with a Q-Tip until something happens." So your doctor keeps touching em and then one of em bursts and doc says "yeah something's wrong." But then you're really embarrassed because you realized that your mom just brought you to the doctor for a physical and she was outside of the room and she was listening to the doctor's moans of disgust.  
So anyway, I was being led to my jail cell, when all of a sudden I turned around and apologized for everything I've ever done. The woman leading me to my cell tazed me and threw me inside.

The next day I was tazed some more. I was then brought into court to figure out what my sentence was.

"John, you are found guilty for the murder of your college friend who doesn't have a name and for domestic abuse."

The jury started to moan with pleasure in the booths, it wasn't long until an orgy got going. I thought that was weird but didn't really care. I turned my attention back to the judge. "Your sentence is 2 days of community service!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!1111" I screamed, begging for another chance. It never came. For the next 2 days I was damned to the hell of talking to the elderly and picking up litter, and when I was finally released I downed 13 bottles of Tums, waiting for my death to steal me from my misery.

Turns out it'll take a lot more than Tums to kill a man. After downing a gallon of PeptoBismol and eating my own hair, I could feel death take over me. But then it stopped.

Shit.

** JOHN'S DIARY ENDS ABRUPTLY HERE. 2 DAYS AFTER HIS LAST JOURNAL ENTRY, JOHN WAS FOUND DEAD FOR SUSPENSE. CRIME SCENE INVESTIGATORS STILL ARE STUMPED WITH WHAT HAPPENED TO THIS TRAGIC MAN, BUT ONE THING IS FOR SURE, NO ONE GIVES A SHIT, AND MY MOM'S COOKING IS AWFUL.**


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